


Purple Trees

by PetrichorPerfume



Series: Shenanigans [150]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Lucifer paints every green thing on his block purple, Michael can explain, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-17
Updated: 2014-10-17
Packaged: 2018-02-21 11:26:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2466527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetrichorPerfume/pseuds/PetrichorPerfume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Officer Good meets Mr. Aldric Elstrom for the first time when he finds himself cruising down a street where every single piece of greenery has been dyed bright purple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple Trees

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr submission requesting more of Officer Good and Mr. Aldric Elstrom. You can submit any prompts/ideas there, too: http://lovesongforlulu.tumblr.com/submit 
> 
> (The passcode is bowtiesarecool)

Officer Good likes his job. Every burglary he’s ever responded to in his time in this town has turned out to be a harmless case of a raccoon in the attic (or, on one memorable occasion, a bat nest), and every ‘missing persons’ case has inevitably turned out to be an equally harmless situation of a frantically meowing household cat stuck in a tree (or, in the case of the elderly Mr. Fuzzy Boots the Third, a particularly stubborn bush.) Sometimes, he’ll be called to the scene of a robbery involving an open bakery door and an escaped dog, which can generally be remedied with a dog whistle and a baggie of treats he keeps in the glove compartment for just such occasions.

 

Most of the time, he spends his working hours cruising up and down the neighbor’s streets, reminding playful children not to stray too close to the street and bidding teenagers not to stay out too late on school nights. Often, he’ll stroll around the park and make small talk with the mothers and fathers watching their little ones play, or he’ll take a walk down Main Street to ensure that all of the shop owners feel safe and comfortable.

 

In fact, the only real problems he ever runs into that don’t involve wayward animals and frightened pet owners are those involving Michael and his rowdy brothers/lovers/hooligans.

 

That’s probably why he isn’t at all surprised when he rolls down a street where all of the trees, bushes, shrubs, weeds, grasses, and flowers have been painted bright purple. There are only two dwellings – one quaint little cottage surrounded once multi-color wildflowers, trailing vines, and ripe berries, and one imposing brick structure that looked fit to withstand the Apocalypse.

 

Officer Good considers the bunker for a moment before deciding that someone with such refined tastes as Michael possessed couldn’t possibly consent to live in such a place. He parks his car and makes his way up to the cottage before knocking gently on the door.

 

“Coming,” a voice that he doesn’t quite recognize calls out. Momentarily, a man quite a few years older than Officer Good remembers anyone in Michael’s strange family to be steps out onto the porch. Wordlessly, he points across the street.

 

Officer Good realizes with the kind of deep pity that one only feels for those substantially less fortunate than them that this man must be familiar with Michael and his associates. “I am _so_ sorry,” he says, holding out one hand in a gesture of sympathetic friendship. “If they give you _any_ trouble at all-”

 

The man smiles, and Officer Good recognizes it for what it is because he’s smiled that same smile when thinking about the town’s resident menaces more times than he could count. It’s a smile of begrudging fondness and reluctant admiration and slow, hesitant almost-friendship. “Trouble? With all due respect, Officer, they’ve been nothing _but_ trouble.” He looks around and nods decisively. “But purple’s a good color, don’t you think?”

 

And, well, Officer Good can’t really argue with that. Purple _is_ a good color – a fun color, he amends – and the plants look healthy enough. He smiles, makes his way across the street, down the discolored stairs that lead to the bunker’s entrance, and knocks twice. Michael answers, looking just a little stricken as his eyes dart from flower to flower and back again. “I can explain,” he starts.

 

Officer Good shakes his head. “No need. I just dropped in to say hello.”

 

And when Michael smiles back at him and calls over his shoulder that they have a surprise visitor for dinner, he decides that he doesn’t like his job. He loves it.


End file.
